Somewhere Over Jack's O'Lantern
by HDorothy
Summary: A typical Halloween at the O'Neill household or not!


Title: Somewhere Over The Jack O' Lantern

Author: HailDorothy aka HDorothy

Category: Romance/Humor/Angst

Warnings: Sexual references

Rating: T

Pairing: Jack/Sam

Season: Futuristic

Spoilers: Season 1- Whenever-Whatever

Summary: A typical Halloween at the O'Neill's. Ya think?

Beta Thanks: CSuzy, what would I do without you? Hey, don't answer that! Above all, thank you, Lord Jesus, for giving me the gift of the bards.

Disclaimer: All publicity recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This series may include script excerpts from the TV Series 'Stargate SG-1.' This fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of said author, HailDorothy 2004 ©, revised 2006©.

Feedback: Gosh, darn, don't make me beg! Pretty Please? Starvation of this writer's muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well digested. "Feed me, Seymour!" (The Little Shop of Horrors)

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Friday night—October 30th

"Trick or treat?" Kids' voices chimed from Sam's front door.

Her phone was ringing—again. She yawned and lifted the cellular off the arm of the sofa. He'd been checking every ten minutes and driving her wacko. She had two more weeks to go, knew her body better than anyone, even her husband. Still it was sweet to know that after all these years he still worried about her. A lot more than he should.

"I'm fine," she answered affectionately before he could speak.

"Yes. Well . . ."

"We've been in this situation before," she reminded him.

"We have?"

Sam smiled into the phone. "Yes."

"Well, I'm just saying . . .it's a thought."

'Yes, you are. Now hurry up and get home."

"If you say so, Colonel, Ma'am."

"I do." She giggled and hung up.

Another ring. This time from the front door. Sam shoved off from the sofa and with one hand on her protruding belly, the other using the wall for leverage she maneuvered toward the front door. She should have known better than to sit down, but being almost nine p.m., she assumed this was the last of the neighborhood kids. Glancing in the foyer mirror, she appraised her Dorothy of Oz costume, courtesy of her husband's warped sense of humor, not to mention her braided, shoulder-length blonde hair.

A frown settled across her round face. She'd worn this outfit three years in a row and was getting the same old look from the older kids, not to mention she'd had to add five inches of material to make the dress fit. Let's face it, how many pregnant Dorothy of Oz's did one see on Halloween? Scary thought! She smirked, opened the door and gaped at what all occupied her front porch.

There behind two adorable Munchkins stood a tall lanky scarecrow, scratching at the straw poking out of his chest and muttering, "Itches like crap!"

"General?" she choked out with a smirk.

"Name's Scarecrow, Dorothy." He grinned holding out his tattered, bulging paper sack.

Sam forced her amused gaze from Jack's painted face to the twin five-year-old boys.

"We want Kisses!" The tow-haired boy shoved his half-filled plastic pumpkin at her with a wide toothless grin.

Bending over as best she could, Sam eyed the boys. "So what makes you think I have Kisses to give away?"

"Coz, Scarecrow said so." The lisping brown-haired sibling bobbed his head, then glanced back at Jack who was trying to see passed Sam to the candy dish. She wondered who the real kid was.

"He did, huh?" She looked at Jack who shrugged sheepishly.

"He said to tell you, yer the most beautifulest, hoddiest, sexiest Dorothy we've seen tonight."

"And he's right," announced the blonde twin, who also peered at the clear candy bowl on the hallway table and licked his lips, that Sam noticed were smeared with blue and red candy stains.

Sam rolled her eyes, knowing they had no idea what sexy or hot meant, and neither word applied to her present physical condition or state of mind. Purposely, she blocked their view, which considering her enormous shape wasn't difficult.

"Just coz, she's the only grown-up Dorothy we've seen so far, butthead." The first one elbowed his brother. "Let alone fat one."

"Hey!" Jack injected. "She's not fat!"

The boys kept debating loudly.

"She's n—ot the first Dorothy."

"Is too."

"Well, he said, ta tell her she's the prettiest and sexiest—."

"And hoddiest—"

"Didna."

"Didto."

"Oy!" Jack scrubbed a hand over his painted face, smearing it. "Enough you, two!"

They shrugged.

The brown-haired one kept on. "Saying she's a hoddie and telling her are like two different things, skunk breath!"

"Well, she is!"

"'Kay so she's extra hod."

"Point is she's the Scarecrow's girl, not yer's."

"She's mine too."

"And mine."

"Whatever!"

Sam's eyes bounced from one boy to the other, then up at Jack who was now blazing red beneath his makeup and avoiding her scrutiny. She watched his scarred eyebrow disappear beneath his straw hat.

"Let's call it a truce," Sam said through a yawn. "I'll be each of yours, okay?"

"Well," the twins said in unison and glanced back at Jack. "'Kay." They smiled affectionately up at her.

"But I'm your favorite one, right?" the blonde asked, swiping at his nose.

Sam opened her mouth to answer.

"Excuse me!" the brown-haired elbowed him. "I was born first, so I'm her favorite."

"Are not."

"Am too!"

"Boys!" Exasperated, Sam eyeballed Jack.

"Knock it off." He tapped their heads in a disciplinary way, then glanced at Sam. "Way too much sugar and almost bedtime." He winced.

"And whose fault would that be?" She tried not to grin, stood awkwardly and then looked at Jack who was admiring his straw filled jogging shoes and fidgeting with his costume.

"I plead the fifth." He confessed, shoving his hands into his front pockets.

"And their mother's going to make you pay, General." She lectured.

"Well, there's that." His dimples tucked deep into a mischievous smile.

"In your dreams, buster." Sam retrieved her dwindling candy dish and offered it to the boys. "And since Scarecrow here is accepting responsibility for you two going hyper and getting bellyaches, take all you want."

"All?" Jack mouthed and cringed.

"Yep." Sam glanced down the street to see the house lights being switched off and no more kids wandering the sidewalks.

"Wow! He was right! Hershey Kisses!" The boys shoved their hands into the dish and emptied it.

"Hey!" Jack stepped forward and glanced at the greedy Munchkins. "Where's my Kiss?"

"Right here, flyboy." Without batting an eye or adding a sir, Sam reached up and purposely kissed his open mouth.

Before Sam could retreat Jack took her in his arms and carefully dipped her and kissed her stupid. A moment or two later, depending on how one calculated how many seconds determines a stupid moment, he set her up right against the door's frame and stood back, grinning like a slap happy Scarecrow.

Sam held onto the door to keep her balance. "Well, um—Holy Hannah!" She stared into his devil-may care smirk as she tried to collect her lost thoughts and say something rational. She couldn't.

The Munchkins gagged and laughed.

"Pay up, geek." The brown-headed twin said to his fairer complexioned one.

"Shut-up!" The blonde groused, but reluctantly emptied most of his plastic pumpkin into the other's pumpkin.

"Um, boys?" Jack cleared his throat and pointed to his heavy grocery bag. "I believe I won the bet, hands down."

"Jeez!" The brown-haired kid sighed and dumped most of his pumpkin into Jack's bag and sulked.

"Until next Halloween, Dorothy." Jack chuckled and turned, leading his sons through her gate and off to his truck.

"Yeah sure yabetcha." Sam extinguished the Jack O' Lantern, switched off the front door's light and then managed to enter the house without falling flat on her face from the Scarecrow's mind blowing kiss. "Well, that'll teach you to have enough chocolate kisses on hand next year, Sam." She closed the door, collapsed onto the couch and opened the extra bag of Hershey Kisses. Unwrapping one, she popped the sweet confectionary into her mouth and grinned around it. "Or not."

Sam awoke and glanced blurry-eyed at the alarm clock. Twenty-two hundred hours! Thank heavens tomorrow was Saturday, not to mention the real Halloween. Hopefully she would get to sleep in, but doubted it. Although her husband swore she'd be spending the day in bed, being catered to—by him.

"Did I wake you, babe?" his voice rumbled in her ear. He drew her against his hard, naked body and shimmied down her length and then lifted her nightgown to rest his head gently against her protruding belly button.

"Ya think?" she sighed, dragging her fingers through his military haircut and removing a piece of straw.

"So who's your real favorite boy?" He nibbled along her neck.

"That depends on which one gets sick first."

"Fine. Fine. Don't include me." He whined. "And by the way no one got sick last year."

"Only because it rained and we took them to the Community Church Halloween party and I was there to watch what they ate."

"Well, there you are." He drew her closer.

"Yep, and here we are, alone at last." She giggled when he tickled her.

"They're still wound tight." He warned, rubbing her aching lower back.

"Like I said whose fault is that, General Jack?"

"Hey, hey. They each had ten pieces tops and that was between eating Happy Meals and cake at George's house."

"Whatever." She grinned in the darkness. "So what'd they eat at Daniel's and Teal'c's?"

"Ya so don't wanna know."

"Jack!"

"Geez, its once a year, Sam."

"That's what you've been saying since they were three."

"Nah. Really?' He snorted and then tapped her firm round belly and whispered, "Knock, knock, pumpkin, Daddy's home."

The baby kicked. "Great left hook, ya got there, Grace O'Neill." He kissed Sam's bare tummy and then skirted back up drawing her into his arms with a content sigh.

"Still hung up on Grace for a name are we?"

"Yes, well, you're the one who had the hallucinations."

"And so did you. Just took you two years to tell me about them. How many times did you see and talk to her?"

"So not telling and hey, look who's talking, babe."

"Touché, General Jack."

"So, I confess I have a certain fondness for the name Grace . . . Those last few years, especially during your engagement to Petro—"

Sam smirked at his intentional massacre of Pete's name, let alone he'd even raised that forbidden topic.

He cleared his throat. " . . . That brown-haired, blued eyed hallucination was the saving grace that kept me hopeful, that we'd end up like this, Samantha." He pushed her hair aside and did what he did best with his lips and tongue—drove her nuts!

"Um, me too." She sighed and slipped into his possessive hold while his skillful hands began stirring the same fire that got her in this condition eight and half months ago. Even though there was no way he was getting any, this was how he made her feel sexy and wanted. He was so scared of hurting her or the baby, they'd not made love the conventional way in almost a month. Which for one always virile Jack O' Neill was a sacrifice. He was also creative when it came to satisfying his woman, who despite her huge belly, double chin, and swollen feet still had needs, and by the side arm Jack was packing, so did he. And yet he'd not complained once.

Sam had always known Jack was vulnerable and selfless with the people he loved. But nothing could have prepared her for the extent of that compassion until she got pregnant with the twins. And now barefoot because most of her shoes didn't fit, and pregnant with baby #3, he was the dotting husband and lover, who catered to her every whim. And when it came to making love, well, he gave and didn't ask for anything in return, saying that giving her pleasure became his pleasure. Often, Sam's love for this wonderful man overwhelmed her and literally brought her to her knees giving thanks.

After all these years, Jack still wasn't a talker, but he'd extended himself with her. Even now, when the last thing Sam thought was that she looked pretty, sexy or let alone hot, Jack O'Neill seduced her with looks and caresses. He'd even taken two months off from HomeWorld Security to help with the kids and give Sam downtime before their little girl arrived.

While his hands continued their seductive exploration, he nuzzled and kissed that special place in the curve of her neck, before cradling her chin and smiling down at her. "I figure after what we've gone through with those two munchkins, God's going to grant us _grace_ with our little girl."

"I hope so." She brushed her lips across his jaw. "I always thought she'd be our first born. But I'm glad we have the boys. They're each so individual yet so, O'Neill."

"Please don't remind me." He groaned. "And I used to think Charlie was a handful. We've double the trouble."

"Jack, I don't mean to brag, but we've got two wonderful sons."

"Sure do, Mrs. O'Neill, I'm just hoping there's more Carter genes in the next O'Neill."

Sam smiled. "Well, Grace could be another chip off of the old block, you know?" She nibbled his bristled cheek and worked her way to his lower lip as he began his seductive magic.

"I'm hoping it's your block we're talking about here," he mouthed into her inviting lips. "Coz, two of me is more than this old man can handle. I'd no idea how annoying I can be. It's a miracle you ever fell in love with me, Carter."

"No miracle. It was lust--um, love at first sight seeing you in those dress blues bent over the Briefing Room table.

"Ditto?" He waggled his brows, his dimples tucking deep. "So you lusted after me, huh?"

"As if you didn't know." She punched his arm.

"Well I'd hoped."

Her fingers trailed across his chest heading southward.

Jack gulped at her strategic maneuver. "Um, so two mini-Jacks, aren't so bad?"

"Stop changing the subject, General." Sam's left hand navigated across his six-pack and locked onto her target.

"Care—ful." Jack's gravelly voice hitched at her intimate handling as he reached down to stop her. Sam didn't relent. She loved that after all this time, the fire they had started nearly eighteen years ago still burned and was more often than not, a raging inferno.

His voice cracked, "Like I said, I'd rather Gracie take after you."

"Be careful what you wish for, Scarecrow." She teased as he growled and maneuvered her into a spooning position, which gave him the helm.

"Oh, I already know what I'm wishing for, Dorothy." He made his intent known and Sam pressed against him, fantasizing that in a few weeks, he could actually fulfill that wish.

"Mommy! Daddy!" The hallway light shot on and their door opened, slamming against the wall.

"What, Georgie?" Jack groaned and squinted over their footboard as the room exploded with light.

"Jake puked all over my bed!"

"Oh, fercryinoutloud!" Jack jerked his boxers on beneath the covers.

Sam sighed and tugged her nightgown in place then gave Jack the evil eye. "Ten pieces my a—"

"Nah ah. Not in front of the children."

"I so own you, Jack O'Neill!" She swung her long legs off the bed as he assisted her to her swollen feet.

"Yes, you do." He winked.

Sam affectionately patted George's head and rushed to their boys' bedroom where Jacob O'Neill sat holding his belly and staring at the mess he'd made.

"Sorry, mommy." He whined and swiped away his tears.

"That's okay, honey." Sam held her breath, picked him up off the bed, and carried him to the bathroom where Jack already sat holding George on the edge of the bathtub with the toilet seat up.

"I don't feel good." George groused hugging Jack tight and gagging.

"Over the toilet," Jack ordered in his CO voice as he unglued George's tight grasp from his shoulders.

"I can't"—Argh!" George spewed down Jack's bare legs and onto his feet.

"Ack!" Jack gagged. "Jeez, Georgie!"

Sam stood in the doorway stifling a grin at the shocked expression of disgust on her husband's handsome tanned face.

"Ah, yes. Reminds me of when Uncle Daniel lost his supper after you encouraged him to drink four Guinness' in a row—I believe you wore that mess too."

Holding his sick son at arm's length Jack shuddered and scowled at his wife. "Isn't this where you're supposed to become super astrophysicist mom and fix it?"

"I believe I warned you what would happen, _'sir,'_ but as usual you had to do it the O'Neill way."

"Remind me next year not to listen to myself?"

"Da ja vu." She quipped, hit the exhaust fan and started the bathwater. "So, boys, tell mom, what you and dad really ate tonight."

Despite their stomachaches, the boys nodded and smiled.

"Well," Jacob burped and found his way to Jack's free arm and clung on.

Jack hugged his son at a distance. "You're not going to spew again are ya?"

Jacob touched his tummy. "Don't think so."

"Sweet." Jack drew him closer as Jacob expounded.

"First, we had double chocolate cake and hot chocolate at Uncle Cameron and Auntie Vala's, then at Cassie and Daniel's we ate two caramel apples each . . . with nuts. Dad ate three. Uncle Teal'c made salsa bean dip with chocolate chips and of course, we had donuts. Dad didn't eat the salsa bean-chip dip, said it looked like rabbit turds."

"Jack!"

"Had to have been there." He grimaced and shivered. "Really." He looked a little green around the gills. Actually just thinking about salsa and chocolate together made Sam cringe.

"But Jake and me thought it was just peachy." George grinned.

"I'm sure you did." Sam was so not smiling as she grabbed paper toweling and soap and cleaned Jack off, including his hairy legs. "You need a shower, hon." She gave up and tossed the toweling into the wastebasket.

"Yeah, figured that."

"So when did you eat the Happy Meals, boys?" She glanced at Jack's impish expression, which was looking paler.

"Um, just a little while ago." George muttered through a moan and buried his head against his dad's bare chest. Jack rocked his hurting son in his lap.

"And how much candy did you eat?" She drilled them like the military mom she was.

"Tons," Jacob admitted as he hugged the toilet and unloaded again. " Argh! . . . But that was behind Dad's six . . . We swear on grandpa Jacob's grave."

Sam glared at Jack as she flushed the toilet . . .again.

"Hey, I didn't see them eat anymore and we delivered the majority of the candy to the Homeless Shelter after we left here."

"You are so dead!"

"No zats please?" Jack comforted George, but Sam knew he was using their son as a shield.

"Yeah sure yabetcha." She grinned loving this man —this father—um, sixty plus-year old kid—her husband with the exceptions of Halloween, Christmas and Easter and most definitely Saint Patrick's Day!

As if on cue, Grace O'Neill kicked hard. Sam smiled wider. No doubt about it, their daughter would be a chip off the old block.

Twenty minutes later Sam had tucked the twins into bed while Jack showered. She then noticed he was nowhere to be found. She figured the coward had already gone to bed. Entering their master suite, she found their bed empty, but the adjoining bathroom light glowed from beneath the closed door.

"Jack?"

She heard a distinct moan and waddling over, pushed the door ajar. There, kissing the porcelain god was her knight in shining armor. Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill the man who'd risked his life to save the world a zillion times over, emptying his stomach because he'd eaten too much cake and candy. Although she felt sorry for him, she smirked. Even after ten years of marriage, life with Jack O'Neill remained more unpredictable than when they'd walked, ran and sometimes jumped through the Stargate.

"Sorry." He flushed the toilet and then staggered to the sink and splashed water on his face. "I should know better."

"Ya think." She shook her head and yawned. She so needed to sleep and get rid of the nagging lower backache that had started an hour ago. Sam knew what it meant. She just refused to acknowledge it until she'd gotten some shuteye. One hand on her lower back, the other on her protruding tummy, she navigated toward their bed, moaning softly.

After gargling with mouthwash and his stomach finally settled, Jack watched his wife toddle to bed where she sat and waited for him. Sensing her oncoming back labor, he scrubbed a hand over his face and through his wet gray hair. Having gone Ancient twice in his life had left Jack with certain abilities, some he'd not even shared with Sam. Oh, she knew he no longer aged chronologically like most humans. In fact he looked and felt like a man ten years his junior and according to Thor he would for a very long time. Talk about spooky.

Then there was Sam. Her blending with Jolinar and then physically joining with Jack had altered her genetic makeup. She was now part Ancient, and so were their kids. Going Ancient had its perks.

Although he knew she suspected — must have been all those times their sons' scrapped knees and elbows healed so fast — he'd never confided that he'd retained his healing abilities. Or that he could talk to their unborn baby and she talked back. Typical female! And that at precisely 0912 hours tomorrow morning on October 31, Grace Janet O'Neill would enter their lives screaming her head off, but Jack would make certain that his wife's labor and delivery would be short and sweet.

"You okay, Carter?" He gently lifted Sam's legs into their bed and then crawled over her to the other side and pulled the blanket over them.

"Yeah, just a long day." She lied, just as she had with the twins. Being the stubborn and brave soldier she was, Samantha Carter-O'Neill would wait until the last minute before telling him that her contractions were every four minutes, let alone two minutes apart.

"Sure, there's nothing else you want to tell your CO?" he challenged, knowing she'd not concede, least not yet. Some stuff just never changed between them. And that was okay. He smiled.

"No, sir." She nuzzled against him. "Just glad you're in my life, Jack O'Neill, with two L's. Glad we have healthy boys with tummy aches, glad the world is no longer threatened from the Goa'uld or the Ori. Glad you're my safe bet, Scarecrow."

"Always have been, Dorothy." He kissed her cheek and lingered there.

"Took me long enough to figure that out." Pulling away, she regressed to that terrible year in their lives when she'd gotten engaged to a control freak whose name had never since been mentioned between them, at least not correctly. She knew Jack wished she'd stop beating herself over that incident. He always said it had been a blessing in disguise, and what finally brought everything out of the closet between them, and why they were deliriously and happily married now.

"Forget it, babe, and that's an order." He eased her back into his arms. "Far as I'm concerned it was nothing more than a learning curve. One of many we've had since you walked into that briefing room, took my breath away and gave me the biggest erection of my life!"

"I did that?" She sighed with obvious self-doubt as his hand rubbed her tummy.

"Oy! You still think I wore those button down BDU shirts for eight years coz I like dressing casual?"

"Except for your dress blues, you always dress casual." She winced and stiffened with pain. Jack gently rubbed her lower back. "I've never seen a man more uncomfortable in a suit than you, Jack."

"Yes, well there's that. But those loose shirts concealed the evidence of being around you twenty-four seven, woman. Going off world was always a pain in the assets with everything tucked-in while I had to act the cool, in charge CO who supposedly only thought of you as my 2IC."

"Had you at full attention, did I?" She snorted against his chest.

"Funny." He sniffed.

"I think so."

"Jeez, Sam. That really sucked. And Daniel and Teal'c were no help."

"You don't say?" she chided.

"Oh, let me count the ways. One night, while you were bathing in a pond and I was watching your six . . ." He cleared his throat.

"You mean watching me wash, sir?" She yanked some arm hairs.

"Ouch! Yes, anyway, Daniel and Teal'c snuck up on me. Then Daniel whispered, "With all due respect, Jack, either screw Carter or jerk off, but do something about that loaded weapon between your legs."

Sam guffawed.

"Hey, even worse, Teal'c replied, 'Indeed!'"

Sam giggled and then held her tummy. "Please—don't make me laugh?"

"Not funny." He snuffed a breath. "I was so humiliated, it cured me of being hot for you . . .Well, at least several days. So much for black ops skills."

"Hey, I always brought extra panties coz just watching you walk in front of me got me wet."

"Wow! Really?" He slid his Ancients hands across her taut belly and then to her knotted lower back. Sam shifted against him and sighed relief, unaware the reason her backache had eased was because the man she loved was doing what he did naturally with Samantha O'Neill, loving her.

"Yes, sir. You've still got the sexiest, tightest ass I've ever seen on a man, Jack O'Neill." She reached behind him and grabbed it.

He chuckled. "Why thank you, ma'am." And continued to gently rub her lower back.

"Anytime, General." She yawned and closed her blue eyes.

"Yo, Sam! It's Halloween. So ya want a trick or treat?" he murmured into her ear and continued to gently rub her back and hips.

"With you it's always a treat . . .Thanks for the backrub. Amazing the pain's almost gone."

"Hey, think nothing of it."

"I love you more than life, Jack," she said on her last conscious breath as she nuzzled her head against his chest and drifted off to sleep.

"I know." Jack gave the same reply he'd given her all those years when he hadn't been allowed to say what he really felt. Now he could. "And I love you so much more . . ." Cradling her like a delicate china doll, Jack couldn't imagine ever loving Samantha Carter-O'Neill more than he did now. But come morning when she presented him with their baby daughter, Grace, Jack would indeed love his former 2IC, lover, wife, and the mother of his children more than ever. Yeah, life couldn't get much better than this.

Jack had always been black and white. As he'd once said to Sam, "Hey, let's face it, I'm not that complex." He wasn't. Saving the galaxy umpteen times would have been meaningless if she'd not been there beside him. Stepping through the Stargate that first time maybe saved his life, but Samantha Carter had given him a purpose to live. He doubted she'd ever realize what a godsend she was to him. Not since Sara had any woman other than Sam, sent his heart into a nosedive.

He'd never forget the first time she'd strolled into his life, before he realized Sam Carter wasn't a man. He'd stood in the Briefing Room bent over the table writing in his notebook.

"Where's he transferring from?" he'd asked General Hammond.

"She is transferring from the Pentagon," returned the sexy female's voice.

Startled, O'Neill looked up as a hot, blonde in full dress blues walked over to stand by the vacant chair across from him. The confidence and challenge in her blue-gray eyes totally disarmed him.

"I take it you're, Colonel O'Neill." She saluted sharply. "Captain Samantha Carter reporting, sir."

That's when his body turned to Jell-O. Well, all but one particular part of his anatomy. His mouth went dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His heart rolled over. He was smitten for life. Two hours later when he said he adored her already, he'd meant it.

Yeah, he'd been give a second chance at what he'd always wanted, a good woman to love him unconditionally and now kids. And God alone knew that Jack O'Neill would do everything in his Ancient powers to not mess this up – ever.

Pressing his hand against Sam's round belly, he said telepathically to his daughter, '_See you in a few, Gracie.' _

'_Yeah sure yabetcha, Daddy.' _

The End


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